White
by Insanity with Cheese
Summary: Kinda short and kinda crappy...
1. Chapter 1

Anthony Robin's heart was pounding faster than a hummingbird's. His palms shook, his breathing almost stopped. His face was covered in a thick layer of sweat, and his stomach threatened to push out his lunch at the last minute.  
They were right there, in all their glory.  
Anthony took in a deep breath. He figured that if he had enough bravery to fight Gotham's greatest villains, including The Joker, he had enough courage to ask Emma Block out.

Anthony looked down at the dark blue floors and dragged himself over to Emma. "Hi, Emma..." Anthony muttered under his breath, making circles in the ground with the front of his shoe.  
"Your name's Tony, right?" Marty grunted to Anthony, inhaling deep on a cig, as every breath that came out of his mouth was stained with smoke and crap-stained teeth.  
"I prefer 'Anthony'..." Anthony muttered back, crinkling his nose from Marty's breath. His eyes shifting to Emma's long, curly brown hair.  
"Good. Cuz you're a nerd, and I need someone to do my homework while I go to the Linkin Park concert tonight." Greg yelled, slapping Anthony on the back and shoving his Algebra book into Anthony's weak arms.  
"Whatever..." the nerd muttered back, but still looking at Emma.

"Hey...um...Emma...well, my mom's letting me take the car this weekend..." Emma blinked, half paying attention to what Anthony had to say, half wondering if she should buy more mini-skirts or something at Abercrombie.  
"...and...well...maybe you and I could...ya know...catch a movie..." Anthony muttered, his eyes begging to Emma's beautiful, green eyes that she would say 'Yes'.

Emma started to laugh. "Me, going out with a loser?" The whole group started to laugh while Anthony looked horrified.

Emma's hair was changing from chocolate brown to leaf green, getting messier and messier as the colors invaded her hair. Her face turned almost pure white, but with cheeks and lips, the same color of all the people that The Joker had killed. Blood-red.  
Emma's alto laugh started getting higher and higher...soon getting a little bit like a clown's.  
"Stop laughing..." Anthony growled, but no one listened.  
"Rob-Bin!" called an oh-too-familiar voice for Anthony. "Why So Serious, Robin?" Anthony shivered. "Let's have a great, big, smile upon that face!" It screamed, so deep, and so scratchy, it almost sounded as if The Joker was eating nails while he taunted Batman's sidekick.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Anthony screeched, throwing the text book with all his might.

Emma yelped in pain, falling onto the floor and clutching her wounded eye. The left corner of Greg's algebra book was covered in blood, slowly running down the pages of the book.  
Anthony just stood there, barely remembering why he threw the book in the first place.  
Marty turned to the panting boy, fury in his big, blue eyes. "I'm gonna kill ya, you sonofabitch!"

Knowing that fighting back would've resulted in being more injured than being shot down, Anthony took off.  
"No sonofabitch is gonna make a fool outta Emma Block!" Greg screamed, chucking the text book at Anthony, hitting the top of his head.

Anthony fell to the ground, yet scrabbled up as fast as he could. Too late.

Marty held up up by his surfer-dude hair. "Whaddya think we should do to this bastard, Greg?" Marty shouted, his fingerless gloves feeling the oily, greasy texture of Anthony's hair.  
"Hey, wouldn't it be funny if we bound and gagged him in the janitor's closet?" Greg chuckled while punching Anthony in the ribs.  
"I refuse!" Anthony screamed, struggling under the Neanderthal's hand. "Shaddup." Marty whispered, tying his mouth with a bandanna.  
Against his will, Marty and Greg dragged him by the ankles to the dank janitor's closet. Using his shoelaces from his Nikes, he bounded Anthony's arms so tightly, a red mark would still be on there for days.  
"Hey, wouldn't it be funny if Batman found him like this?"  
"Ho yeah, that'd be SO freakin' funny! But, Batman would probably find him dead...who knows how long this loser will be in this closet for?"

Anthony grunted under the bandanna. With a few extra WHACKS, Marty slammed the textbook against Anthony's head until he was almost unconscious. And to add insult to injury, the two thugs made an immature, yet accurate impression of The Joker and slammed the janitor's door shut.

***

Anthony's gray eyes opened quickly, screaming as he woke up. He realized that the 'attempted murder from Scarecrow' was actually just his face slipped into the mop bucket. He moaned slowly and tried to get the floor taste out of his mouth.  
"Great. Now my glasses are wet." he muttered, trying to wipe off the water as best as he could, but he shivered from the coldness of the water and the cold air of late February.  
As he tried to wipe off his black, rectangular glasses off of all the grimy, freezing water the best he could, he wondered how long he had been stuck in the janitor's closet.  
"Why the hell didn't anyone notice that I'm gone?" Anthony wondered out loud, shaking the water out of his greasy, black, surfer-dude hair. Of course, it just sounded like random muffling and gibberish. "Because I'm a loser. That's why. Uncle Bruce can do fine with me..." Anthony sighed.

Anthony slammed his head against the door, not caring that it caused great pain since the assault from Greg and Marty AND Poison Ivy smacked him with an iron bar a few days ago. "Well. This is it. I've been in here since, I don't know, was it at about, three o' clock?

Anthony tried his best to undo the knots, nearly making him BLEED, but, danggit, Greg and Marty must've been Boy Scouts or something!  
Anthony swore at his fifth attempt at undoing the knots. All either futile, or it just made the knots even worse.  
"Dammit! No ways of communication, no way to get outta here, no one knows I'm here 'cept those sons of bitches, damn, this week SUCKED." he thought furiously, wondering if he'd have to resort to chewing the ropes off like a hyena.

CLUNK  
KA-BLAM  
CHANG-CHANG-THUMP

Anthony gave a jump of surprise. "What the hell..." he realized it was glass breaking.  
"Ho, thank GOD! Someone's here to help!"  
"ROBIN!"  
"Ho, crap, don't let him find me!"

He heard the clanging of thick boots sprinting towards the janitor's closet door. Sure enough...

Batman ripped the door straight of its hinges without breaking a sweat. He glared angrily at his acne-plagued, wimpy nephew. Slowly, Batman kneeled down and ripped the bandanna off of Anthony's face.  
Anthony smiled awkwardly. "Erm...hi Uncle Bruce!" Batman growled in return and folded his arms.  
"What the HELL are you doing in the janitor's closet, Robin?"  
"Uhhh...The Joker did it?"  
Batman yanked his nephew out of the dank, smelly closet and tore off his shoelaced bonds. "When we get back at the manor, I hope you have a damn good reason for having Gotham tearing up the whole town trying to find you!" Anthony nodded grimly, standing up, and following his Uncle Bruce, heels dragging in the dust from shame.


	2. Chapter 2

White.  
White white white white white.

He was about to die from boredom. Nothing to do. Nothing to look at. All you could do is sit there in your soft room, wearing a straitjacket. Not only is it boring, the straitjacket hurts like hell.  
"I would stay here for a little while and get out of Batman's hair if there was just something to freaking DO." he muttered, trying to get his bangs out of his eyes. "White? Seriously? No WONDER why these people are insane! Just whiteness to look at! Nothing different! That's all! White!"

The Joker HATED asylums. If you were to ask him, he'd mutter, "It's worst than college, and that's saying something.  
"First, that annoying Batman with his stupid, adolescent nephew jam me in here and wreck my fun. Then, interrogation..."

The Joker paused, smiling about his latest interrogation.  
Mrs. Whims would come in and sit right next to him, saying, "Please, why do you blow up buildings?"  
"It's fun."  
"Why do you like to hurt people?"  
"It's fun."  
"Why do you snatch children from their beds, forcing them to work for you?"  
"It's fun."  
The black-haired woman would just sharply turn to this freak, with extremely messy jade hair, scars that formed in the shape of a smile and a bleached skin.  
"Sir, why do you think that murder is a game?"  
"It IS a game."  
"No it's NOT!"  
"What about CLUE? World of Warcraft? Call of Duty?"  
If The Joker loved anything, it was the look on their faces when The Joker made a connection in an ironic way. Mind games, oh how he loved them.

The Joker grunted, shifting to the corner of his soft room.  
"Then those damn needles full of poison. When they find out I'm not dead, they strap my arms into this damn straitjacket."

He slammed the back of his head against the wall. "Eight Amendment...must not apply to crazies."  
The Joker moaned, KNOWING that his back was being ripped apart. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. "I don't know why I kill...I just...do it." he answered to Mrs. Whims.

***

Batman practically shoved Anthony into his Bat Mobile, furious. "Anthony Robert Robin, do you realize what kind of damage you've done to Emma Block?" Anthony pressed his zit-covered forehead against the window, trying to get the taste of grimy, soapy water out of his mouth.  
"So tell me."  
"Emma has to get her left eye removed! REMOVED! That's how much you've screwed it up, just like everything else!"  
Anthony turned sharply left, nearly knocking off his glasses.  
"May I remind you that I stopped that crazy clown-"  
Batman glared at his nephew. "That doesn't count. You tripped on your shoelaces and fell over him. That was an accident."  
The 16-year-old rolled his eyes and pressed his coal-black hair against his uncle's tinted window.  
"Just wait on what your dad says about this, Robin!"  
"My name's Anthony."  
Batman just muttered, "Robin, this is the third school you had to take this year. You've been expelled from your other schools for violence. Why do you do these things?"  
Anthony didn't answer. He just pressed his head against the window, watching at the lights of Gotham drew into a beautiful, flowing blur.  
Batman sighed in disgust. Neither of them spoke to each other during the whole car ride.  
"I don't know why I hurt people...I just...do it."


	3. Chapter 3

In a pitch-black night, a wolf howled. It was well past midnight, and the Witching Hour was taking place. Only an idiot would dare to step outside during the Witching Hour. All who did-usually drunk people or teenagers sneaking out-the last thing they remembered hearing before a blackout was a clown's chilling, psychopathic laughter.  
Anthony was still up though.

He was pacing around in his room, kicking anything that went in his way. He found out that someone noticed that he was missing at around 10:00 p.m., but everyone got worried at around 11:30. About an hour later, Uncle Bruce found him bound and gagged in a janitor's closest, his face doused in bucket water, his glasses askew.

Since Anthony's mom and dad had fallen asleep, they would discuss the fact that Anthony got expelled in the morning.  
"She deserved it..." he growled back.

It wasn't the fact that Emma had cruelly rejected his date. It wasn't the fact that the bullies had beaten him up and locked him in a janitor's closet. It wasn't even the fact that he got expelled.  
The first thing Anthony saw when he logged onto Yahoo, 'THE JOKER ESCAPES!'

"Damn! I worked my ass off to get that crazy bastard into Arkham Asylum, but then-guess what? He ESCAPES! IN TWO DAYS!"

BREAKING NEWS:  
KC: Good Evening. I'm Kelly CaPrio. As today's top story, the infamous Clown Prince of Chaos has escaped-yet again-from Arkham Asylum. According to The Joker's psychiatrist, Catherine Whims, reports-  
CW: We're very nervous and shocked to have Mr. Joker out on the streets again. I was giving him his medicine, but I found his cell wide open. His straitjacket was in perfect condition, with the fact that Mr. Joker wrote on the back of it. The message says, 'The door was wide open. I mean, come ON! This got boring.'  
KC: Shocking news...it almost seems like some fourteen-year-old scribbled this up.

Anthony 'Spaz Face' Robin had FINALLY captured The Joker, and yet, he escaped within less than a week.  
It didn't help that his Uncle Bruce got pretty mad at him for nearly killing himself in the process.  
The Joker had Batman on the floor, a knife in his fist. The Joker had almost won.  
Robin had run up to him, trying to disarm The Joker, but tripped on his shoelaces, fell on top of the clown, pushing them both off the tallest building in Gotham City, the telemarketing building.  
Naturally, Anthony was screaming. The Joker just covered his ears and hollered, "Do you MIND? I don't wanna die next to some screaming kid, so shut it, okay?"  
Anthony just grabbed onto The Joker like a scared cat, much to his dislike.  
"Er...Robin...could you...not...hang onto me...it's kinda...well, you know...gay?"  
The acne-covered teen didn't seem to hear him.  
Batman was already on the move. With his miniature grappling hook, he flung it down, hoping that SOMEONE would still be alive.  
It hooked on, but NOT where The Joker had in mind.

"OW! THAT'S MY HAIR, YOU IDIOT!" The Joker winced in pain as Batman lured them both up, nearly ripping out all the fibers on the clown's oily green hair.  
When they had reached the safety of the top of the building, Batman couldn't help but laugh hysterically.  
The Joker looked so STUPID, his hair almost ripped out, his suit covered in Anthony's sweat from fear, with some 16-year-old boy clinging on to him, still like a wet, scared cat.  
"Oh, so you think this is funny?" The Joker growled, pushing Batman's nephew off of him.  
"At last, you've tasted irony, Joker!" Batman teased, turning the irritated clown to place on the handcuffs.  
"Shut up and put me in that stupid police car, Bats."

Batman wasn't too happy about the way Anthony had acted. "Robin, for the LAST time, you have a grappling hook in YOUR belt too!" Batman growled, helping his nephew up. "And yet, whenever you fall off a building, your first reaction is to hang on to the villain that YOU pushed off!"  
"I'm afraid of heights, okay?"  
"NO! It's NOT okay! Man up, Robin!"

Man up. Man up. Man up.

Those words had haunted Anthony for quite some time, almost every time they went crime-fighting. Ever since he was just a 12-year-old boy.

It hit him.

"THAT'S IT!"  
Anthony quickly took off his Billy Joel shirt and his jeans. He had an idea...a rather stupid idea.

Anthony placed on his mask with built-in glasses, made ingeniously by Alfred, Uncle Bruce's butler.  
"I'll stop that psycho clown myself! Yeah! That'll prove that Imma man! Uncle Bruce does it all the time, and the ladies are flocking to him! If I catch this blow-up Stephen King character, I'll finally be worthy in his eyes! And what better way is it to go out alone in the middle of the night when a psychotic killer's on the loose, and almost no one's outside? Yep! Sounds like a plan!"

...boys!


	4. Chapter 4

He shut himself in the closet, shivering with fear. He cringed from the light, hoping that the monster wouldn't see him. One sneeze and BOOM! he would be dead. He narrowly escaped the monster's clutches, and that didn't turn out too well for him...  
He stopped breathing as the demon came in.  
"Ho God...don't let her find me!"

A girl with blond ponytails skipped in the room, wearing her usual jester outfit. With a heavy New York accent, she hummed, "Do yous guys know wheres Mista J is?"  
Poison Ivy was lying on the couch, reading a People magazine.  
"The Joker? I think he's fixing his engine or something."  
Harley skipped out of the main lair for Gotham's villains, humming Taylor Swift songs as she went out.  
"She's gone." Poison Ivy muttered, not turning to the place where The Joker was hiding.  
Mista J tentatively stepped out of the closet, almost waiting for Harley to come out to attack him. "You can't live like this forever, Joker."  
"I know...but...believe me, you haven't been in a love-hate relationship before."  
"Whaddya mean by 'love-hate' relationship?"  
"She loves me, I hate her."

Poison Ivy closed her magazine and sat up, her curly, blood-red hair bobbing up. She muttered, "LOVES you? She has your tonsils in a jar..."  
"What was that?"  
"Nothing..."

The Joker sat down next to his friend, brushing off some dust off his purple jacket and ruffled his green hair back to the way he liked it.  
"And it's not like I can break-up with her either..."  
Poison Ivy laughed, something she rarely did. "Yeah...I remember that..."

One month earlier:  
Poison Ivy was trying to remove Batman's blood stains off her favorite jumper, as green as coconut palm leaves. She was humming a Lady GaGa song as she worked when...  
A horrible scream came out from the entrance of Gotham's Villain Lair, a man's scream. The Joker burst in through where Ivy was sitting, following him was an angry blond girl, holding a knife.  
"I'LL KILL YA, YA BASTARD!"  
The Joker backed away from his girlfriend, his hands held up high.  
"See? This is what I'm trying to say...you're too...possessive of me...I'm feeling smothered-"  
Harley swung her knife, nearly striking the Clown of Chaos.  
"I'm just-"  
WHOOSH!  
"-saying that-"  
WHOOSH!  
"-we need a-"  
WHOOSH!  
"-a break-"  
WHOOSH!  
"-FOR A WHILE, OKAY?"  
WHOOSH!  
"MY GOD, DO YOU EVEN CARE?"  
WHOOSH!

Ivy just stared at the fight, the kind of stare you would if you saw a man with purple skin.  
Before her friends could say anything, she quickly stammered, "I'm not involved. Just a bystander. Not doing this..."

After about ten minutes of Harley trying to kill her puddin', she threw down the knife and was furious at him for about, three minutes.  
The Joker didn't understand a lot of things. Women and relationships was one of them.

Harley skipped through the door. "You were wrong, Ivy. He wasn't there-" but stopped dead when she saw him.  
"MISTA J!" Harley pounced on The Joker, much to his dislike.  
"Come on, puddin'! Let's take a romantic walk while it's dark out! Maybe we be caught in the Asylum together!"

The Joker shrugged. The Asylum was SO boring, he wouldn't care for anyone's company, even if that 'company' was Harley Quinn.  
But, these 'walks' were usually more of just skipping through flowers.  
Even though The Joker told Harley a million times,  
One: The Joker does NOT skip!  
Two: The Joker especially does NOT skip through flowers!  
Three: What kind of idiot's gonna skip in flowers in the middle of the night?

Harley wouldn't listen.  
She broke all the bones in The Joker's hand, pulling him up and running through the doors.  
The Joker quickly flashed a look at Poison Ivy, mouthing, "HELP!"  
Ivy shook her head, smiling at the peculiar couple.  
The Joker flipped the bird at Ivy, only for her to get back to her People magazine.

Meanwhile...

Anthony could see him...why the crap was The Joker standing next to a bunch of flowers in the park in the middle of the night?


End file.
